


An Endless Name

by avidvampirehunter



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi
Genre: A Kink is Born, F/M, Force Bond, Kylo Ren is the Biggest Rey Stan, Pining, Rated M for Make My Pain Stop, That One Hand-Touching Scene, The Last Jedi - Freeform, force vision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 21:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avidvampirehunter/pseuds/avidvampirehunter
Summary: The memories of that nameless place below track tears down her cheeks and, no, this isn’t the first time he’s seen them, but it’s the first time she’s let him and oh, yes… something is there.Something theirs.





	An Endless Name

**Author's Note:**

> This oneshot was originally called "When You Touched Me" but then I realized that our dumb beefcake was the one that did all the touchin' so here ya' go! Written at 4AM after the midnight premiere.

It wasn’t endless.

That’s what she says. And how appropriate that she would. How much it _fits_ and oh, how intricately woven they have become when everything has been unwound, laid bare and begging to be threaded.

The memories of that nameless place below track tears down her cheeks and, no, this isn’t the first time he’s seen it, but it’s the first time she’s let him and _oh_ , yes… something there.

Something _theirs._

“You’re not alone,” he confesses quietly. How oddly religious he is here, in this place only they belong. Where he belongs. Everything is right and fits and yet remains untraceable. It’s a feeling he can’t quite place, and he’s not certain that he wants to. Not when it’s just them.

Just _her_.

It shifts inside of her, like a rudder to a ship, changing course and another wall falls from the damn of her heart, spilling raw emotion and power through. So likened to how he remembers her best, her eyes and her impenetrable ire—only to know all along it was never so sealed. Never truly hidden. She is galaxies away, he knows, but she is just a breath now.

There is a fire with her, he couldn’t see it before, but he does now. Its heat warms on his face as she whispers, “Neither are you.”

Suddenly he feels that same shift, that inexplicable sharing he cannot run from. Again the uncertainty comes. How could she say such a thing, unless she truly understood? A seed of hope, planted on Starkiller Base, sprouts and wraps gentle tendrils deep into the soil and decay in his chest, and all at once there is life, fragile and new. It’s like he feels her fingers digging into the earth of his skin before she even begins to shift and all time stops.

A hand. Her hand. So still and so sure, somehow, despite all she knows and the way she used to look at him has melted down her face and becomes _resolve._ He sees it all at once and it’s almost too much, almost enough to send him spiraling into false hopes, but that doesn’t matter because it’s _her_.

There’s no thought in their head but to touch. No preference in his mind but the whisper of a name in her heart and oh, _yes,_ let him feel it. She lets him feel it and for one moment she will let it be _his._ The temptation to close his eyes, to sink into her, is almost unbearable. She’s winding around him, through him, and he through her and how could the Force become so _entangled_ this way? _  
_

He removes the thought like he removes the only barrier between them now. Let _that_ fall to the side, let the skin through. She will get what she wants, she will feel him. As much as she will take, she can have it. As long as the fire burns and it’s only ever them here, in this place, she can take it all.

Gaze never leaving hers, his hand finds itself in orbit. Slowly. This must be savored. As much as that part of him want to crash down, swallowed in heat and fury by her inescapable gravity, that is not what they are here. Not who he is in bare skin. _  
_

_One touch. One touch.  
_

_Touch her.  
_

_Let her see._

Her anticipation tremors through what little air stirs around them, crackling softly between distant fingertips suddenly _formed_. At first all he feels is warmth, her skin, the pulse hammering underneath it that echoes his own. But then the power takes him, the heat and the pull and suddenly she is _endless_.

She’s changed her hair, and the way she looks at him. The way she touches him with her eyes, once pounding against his own in anger and fear, now seem to soothe and probe. They calculate, they understand, they feel and they _speak_ and tell him he will never be alone again.

And power. Oh, it _moves._ It sifts through her from him, it makes her strong and he no longer feels weak. He gives and she takes and he wants _more._ There are stars beneath their feet and the sense of glory and purpose shakes him body and soul.

But there’s something… else. He knows this must be a vision, a vision of her future. But her past calls to him and suddenly she is a child, screaming for the parents she wanted so desperately to hold onto. Oh yes, he can see them. Faceless. Degenerates. They receive payment and leave, and what he wouldn’t give to have the control in this place, to wrench them by their necks and show her now what she must release. They are not worth her pain. They are not worthy of _her._

But _he_ is. 

_Oh._

It’s blurred, so hazy and brief, but his soul quakes beneath the weight. Some future… there she is again. All her, only her. He can see her arms, his… his fingers are smoothing the skin there. He can feel it now, even now, even here, where their hands are still. Her eyes are deeper than the sky and just as _endless,_ yet they lie below him and he sinks _.  
_

He’s had these thoughts before. They come uninvited, but persistent, and never quite so innocent. They are put to shame by this. By her touch, all at once and everywhere. By her mouth, drawing so close that he can scarcely breathe. By her voice, whispering and distorted, far away, calling his name and saying she will stay.

_She will stay._

Just like that it’s over. He senses that she’s been caught by Luke, and before he can speak she’s gone and he’s alone again in his chamber, hand still outstretched and open.

He gasps with shaking breaths, the stillness in his hand traded for tremors and a closed fist. “No…” he hisses, pounding against his seat. It propels him to his feet and he keens, the loss spurting, gushing from his palm like an open wound. When it flows her name is carried with the tide. He cries out softly at the moment of anguish, the tug against every vein urging him to return.

_Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey. Rey._

It’s a long time before he can grasp his bearings again, and her emotions shift through him once more. Lingering. Her fear of being left alone, of letting go… he decides then he will end it. He will end it all—be whatever he must to make her see that she will never need to feel alone again. That together… _together_ , they can become _endless_.

The next time they meet, he will tell her the truth. She deserves to know, deserves to let the past die, deserves to be free of her pain and finally let _go_. 

And their future, well… perhaps he will tell her that, too. 

Then something ripples. She was only just here, yet she could never truly leave him now. This bond… there is no point in denying it. And she knows that as much as he knows it’s too late to simply be _enemies_ anymore. Of course not. They were never so simple. She was always this way. Always so…

Pulling on his glove with a shaky breath, he attempts to steady himself. It won’t do to arrive in Snoke’s chambers in this state. The conflict is too close to the surface, too tumultuous in the wake and crashing waves of his desire. He tamps it down with every step, putting regrettable distance between him and that place, but never _her_. Not now. Never _now._

He can feel it. She is coming to him.

And he will be waiting.


End file.
